


The Lionheart

by ThePetiteFlutist



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: AU, Angst, Drama, F/M, Light descriptions of violence/abuse, Loki wins, Slow-building Relationship, lokane - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:00:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePetiteFlutist/pseuds/ThePetiteFlutist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Avengers failed in keeping Loki and his forces at bay in New York and now Loki has divided and conquered the world as it all-too-quickly kneels. In the chaos of war, Loki finds Jane and keeps her as his hostage after saving her from nearly dying. Can Jane unlock his heart that has turned to stone or will she be forced to watch the world burn?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There was once a time in Jane’s life where all that mattered to her was science. She’d write her papers, do her studies and apply for scholarship to study what she wished to. There were no alien men coming from the skies that would end up seducing her, another coming down to take over her world, and thousands of more aliens coming to help with the latter’s cause. Regardless of the many years she sat upon her roof, looking through a telescope and wondering to herself what life was beyond her planet, she began to wish that she never found out. Perhaps she should have just gone into a simpler field like engineering or maybe just psychology. Perhaps if she had chosen a different path, she wouldn’t be laying on the street, covered in her own blood, hoping someone finds her underneath this car. Of course, she hoped that someone is the right someone.  
The battle that surrounded her was winding down to a finish. She knew because the screeches of both aliens and people were getting quieter. The rebels were heavily armed but even those didn’t do much amongst alien technology and Loki’s magic. Such seemed to be the case for all other uprisings in the United States. What were their guns now to an immortal God? 

She regretted existing at this point. The pain of the wounds she had managed from one of the bombs that exploded near her was almost numbing now. She had initially managed to crawl herself through the wreckage and hide underneath one of the dented cars that were along the street. She laid flat on the cement, looking up to the engine and bottom of the car, hoping this was not the last sight she would see. She was losing far too much blood to survive, her calculated mind thought, but even that was slowly beginning to swim in confusion

It felt like days as the sounds that surrounded her, the gun shots, the metal against metal, the explosion slowly stopped like a record that was losing its tracking. Then, silence. Deathly silence. She wondered if she was the last one who was alive at this point. She didn’t want to peak her head out and see corpses surrounding her. She didn’t want to be one of them. She knew if she kept laying here she would just be another statistic and soon it wouldn’t even matter that SHIELD managed to hide her away for so many weeks. Soon she would just end up like everyone else – the losing, the lost, and the dead. There would be no point in the research she managed while she was locked away in a bunker. There would no longer be answers for her race in how to win this war. She knew Tony Stark was still out there somewhere. She knew he wasn’t captured just yet. Yet, her equations and formulas were crucial to this war against Loki…

And Loki himself knew it, too. That’s why she was here. That’s why she was here, nearly dead. It was because of her all of these people died. It was because of her that SHIELD was suffering such a great loss. Her vision was swimming as her heart pounded. If Loki knew she was still alive…  
That was when she heard them. At first, she wasn’t sure if it was just her heartbeat as it seemed like the only thing she could hear during this silence. But then, they got closer. Footsteps. Heavy footsteps, like boots and metal hitting the ground repeatedly. Her head craned around finally to see what was outside, but she was losing consciousness. She could barely make out the black boots that were in front of her eyes. She managed to realize that someone had managed to throw the car that she laid under over onto its side to expose her.

Then, the voice. That voice. That soothing, sickening voice that spoke from radios, television sets for the past few weeks, ensuring the population that this would all end if they just surrendered. She had grown to hate it even if she hasn’t physically seen him in person. But she knew who it was. “I found you,” it said.  
She saw a swarming array of black, green, and gold as the tall being bent over and picked her up. Cool fingers touched her forehead. And then the world went black.

\----------

She thought she had died. Quite possibly gone to whatever place people who don’t believe in religion manage to go in the afterlife. Wherever it was, it was quite cozy. Warm blankets were piled on top of her. The bed was almost like a memory foam mattress. But when she opened her eyes she realized that she was not in the in-between, but rather Hell. Yes, it must exist. The walls were white and it could have been a prison cell but there was one wide window that overlooked what looked to be a bunch of trees and a road. It was almost like her dorm in college. Plain, but functioning. There was a micro-fridge shoved into one of the corners and a door that was opened that seemed to lead to a bathroom, a table with a chair and a desk. It was similar to what she was placed into when she spent her days in the SHIELD bunker before everything went to shit. It wasn’t underground, which was a definite plus. Maybe they managed to relocate? 

Perhaps it was all just a dream. Perhaps SHIELD found her after all and started to nurse her back to health. Her wounds were bandaged up about her chest, the side of her head, and her leg, where all the shrapnel from the explosion lodged into her. She frowned as she looked into one of the bandages that were wrapped about her leg. There was no blood. In fact, there was hardly any scar tissue. No stitches… 

There was something very wrong about how she was healing. She couldn’t have possibly been asleep so long that her body almost completely healed. It ached – as though she had just awoken from a very long nap, but that was all. 

She heard the door click open. Her eyes darted up in panic. Part of her wanted to act as though she were still asleep so she didn’t have to face whatever had happened. But they had walked in too fast. It was a man – nondescript, wearing a black shirt with khakis and boots, looking straight out of an army boot camp. There was something odd though, about the way he walked, carrying a bin of water and a cloth. His eyes met hers, his being a brilliant blue – so light that they almost seemed unreal. It was like he put in fake contacts or something. He paused in his steps before turning around and began to walk back out of the room.

“Wait!” She called after him, her voice was hoarse, but it still fell on deaf ears as the door shut behind the man. The lock clicked.

She rose out of the bed, her arms and legs feeling quite heavy. She was wearing a hospital gown of sorts, she noticed. Standard issue. The only thing under it were her panties and bra. She ran back to the door, trying to open it but failing.  
She knocked on it. 

“Hello? Why did you lock it?” She knocked several more times, continuing to try the handle before her energy gave out and she slid to the floor. This must be a nightmare. She wanted to wake up now. She cried out until her voice went hoarse.

If this were SHIELD, why would they lock her in? Why would this man not say anything? Why wouldn’t they have a nurse taking care of her? Wouldn’t she be hooked up to an IV? Her logical mind was relaying all the information of what she was experiencing, but she only ended up confused. Nothing made sense. SHIELD was essentially destroyed. There was no functionality to it anymore, otherwise she wouldn’t be here.

There seemed to be an inevitable doom whichever way she thought of her situation. She felt tears sting her eyes as panic rose in her throat. Perhaps she wasn’t hallucinating before she woke up here. 

She rose to her feet to go back to the comfortable bed but ended up stumbling to the bathroom as the facts began to weigh down on her. She opened the door to the bathroom and emptied her stomach of whatever bile might be within it. It stung her throat so she turned on the sink and rinsed her throat of the acidity. She looked at her pale face in the mirror. She removed the entirely white bandage from her face. It looked as though nothing happened. No stitches, no puckered tissue from scarring… not even dirt or grime from laying under the car. Nothing. For the first time in a long time, she began to cry. What was going on? What the hell was happening to her? She must be dead. She has to be. This must be some fucked up version of purgatory. 

She emptied her stomach once more, though there was nothing there. Only then she realized how hungry she was. Her knees shook as she scrambled her way back into the bed to lay down. Her head spun as she laid down. She shut her eyes, hoping that she’ll wake up from this nightmare. 

The door clicked open again. A woman appeared this time. She looked blankly at her and Jane looked blankly back. She was finely dressed, though still very plain. A white button-up blouse was tucked into her figure-flattering black skirt. Her makeup neutrally done… but her eyes… Her eyes were also that piercing blue color. She carried a black duffel bag in her hand that Jane recognized to be her duffel bag SHIELD had given her to pack her belongings as they moved from one place to the next to remain inconspicuous.

“Miss Foster, I am instructed to tell you that the master would like for you to accompany him at his dinner this evening. He hopes this would suffice for now. I shall return in twenty minutes to fetch you,” she said, her voice was unemotional, almost as though she were talking to Tony Stark’s AI, but even JARVIS had more personality.

“I’m sorry?” She asked, “Who calls himself master?” 

“King Loki, of course,” She spoke evenly, as though it must be obvious. 

She felt herself lose blood in her head. She knew that this was the workings of Loki, but didn’t want to acknowledge it lest she must go crazy. Loki found her. This must be the end. Why is there such pretense in this? Surely he must need to kill her. He most likely has found her work, why would he need her anymore? She was why they were winning for so long. She was beating him at his own game for a good long while until he seemed to take the next step and be ahead of her.  
“King?” She parroted, her voice cracking, her head shaking her out of her reverie. 

The woman nodded. “Yes, Miss Foster.” 

“And what if I don’t want to have dinner with him?” 

“He knew you might say that. He also said that if you do not wish to eat with him, then you can starve,” She said, as if she was telling the weather for the following day.  
“No room service then, I guess,” She scoffed, but felt her stomach growl angrily. She probably could last another few days without food or water, but she knew that if Loki were to kill her, that might be faster than starving or dehydrating to death. 

The woman made no reaction to her words, but placed the duffel bag at the foot of her bed. “I shall return soon,” She said and then quickly departed.  
Jane shook slightly, her nerves catching up to her. If Loki was going to kill her, why was she still alive? She could have bled out under the car. He could have killed her so easily. Why couldn’t he have? 

She sunk into a panic, her breaths shallow as her palms sweat, only made worse by her lack of nutrition and hydration. She didn’t realize how much time had passed as she sat there in the hospital gown, shaking like a leaf when she heard the knock on the door.

“Miss Foster, are you dressed?” 

It could not have already been twenty minutes. 

“H-hold on!” She called back. 

Alright, Jane, she thought to herself several times, her mind going back and forth between panic and logic. If you get one more chance to die, it’s not going to be shaking and bowing her head to her assassin. You’re not going to lay, belly-up in front of him. You’re not going to give him this satisfaction. You can’t. You’re better than this.  
With a shaking hand, she opened her duffel bag and pulled out the first t-shirt and jeans she saw. She then pulled on her worn-out tennis shoes in case she needed to run. She combed her hair through with her brush, not trying to think about where all of this was coming from and why Loki had it. 

“I-I…” She began, but swallowed back the knot in her throat. “I’m ready,” She said and the lady opened the door, allowing Jane to pass through.

She walked through the halls, also very white and nondescript. There were several other doors she supposed were also living quarters for whatever once inhabited this place before Loki took control of it. 

They went into an elevator that lead them up a floor. 

“Why are you helping him?” she asked, looking to the woman who blankly stared at the closing door of the elevator. “Why would you betray your own race?” Jane pressed, and again, received no answer, not even acknowledgement that she was speaking to her. She must be some robot, Jane thought. A cyborg… But then again, it didn’t seem fit for what she noted of the Asgardians, mostly being what Thor described of them. Somehow they didn’t seem to fit in The Terminator. Jane gave up trying to talk to her. She might as well talk to the wall. 

The elevator stopped and the door opened. She felt her knees shake now but she tried to remain passive. If Loki was the one who managed to heal her of whatever wounds she sustained, surely he wouldn’t just kill her on the spot? Wouldn’t that be work for nothing? Everything Loki did in trying to conquer her world was for a purpose. She must have some sort of purpose.

She couldn’t seem to walk forward, knowing she must be close to meeting Loki face-to-face. He’s just a man, she thought to herself. A powerful man, but nonetheless, still a man. Just like Thor. Thor… 

The woman opened the door to reveal a dining room. It was open, relatively empty, save for the long table in the center. Windows covered half of the wall space as it overlooked a large body of water that could only be described as a lake. They seemed to be in the middle of nowhere… so why would Loki overrun this base in particular? And take residence here? Surely it wasn’t the most convenient. 

It was almost peaceful, the color scheme different from what rest she saw of the building with light gray walls so as to allow natural light to travel in, the glass table, and softer lighting as it seemed to be late afternoon. She could see on the wall SHIELD’s logo imprinted confirming her beliefs that it happened to be a SHIELD building. A large television was on the other wall that wasn’t entirely made of windows, though it was turned off. She wouldn’t see why Loki would need it anyway. There was enough food to feed an army, though it only seemed to be feeding just her. A turkey, pasta, mashed potatoes… Her stomach gurgled at the sight of it. Surely Loki didn’t intend on others joining them, so why all the food? 

Speaking of the devil, she didn’t notice him at first, but at the end of the table on the opposite side of the room stood the tall man. He was certainly Thor’s height, if not taller, and lanky. His arms were folded behind him as he looked over the span of what the window had to offer like a hawk. His black raven hair was combed back, though it curled at the ends into seemingly unruly locks. 

“Miss Foster,” he spoke finally. His voice, a tenor, a rebounded off the hard walls, floor, window glass, and table, and made it seem as though he were right next to her. He turned to face her, a thin-lipped grin spreading across his features upon the sight of her. His collared tunic and dark pants made him look somewhat smaller than the pictures of him with his full-on armor, his shoulders less wide, his demeanor somehow less… demeaning. 

“How good it is to see you face-to-face at last,” He said, walking closer to her. She felt herself move backwards as he stalked up to her. She continued to walk back until she realized this was not the impression she should give. Her mind kicked in. She stood her ground, unmoving even as he stood right in front of her.  
She remained silent upon his greeting. His lips turned down slightly. 

“No words, Miss Foster?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “How disappointing. I would expect some acknowledgement that you, in fact, would not be standing here were it not for I,” He explained, as though he were proud of such an accomplishment. “Perhaps some thanks are in order.” 

She was silent, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed into a frown. “I refuse to thank someone who, if not for them, I wouldn’t have nearly died in the first place,” she said, her confidence startling even herself. 

“On the contrary, Miss Foster, you wouldn’t have nearly died if your organization would not have just surrendered as I asked them to. But alas, it seems as though they were willing to fight tooth and nail so as to protect you,” he said, his hands dropped to his sides as he walked even closer to her. His arm extended out, his long fingers curling to rest under her chin and pull it upwards to look down his nose at him. She never felt smaller in comparison to anyone than she did at that moment. “It seems you are quite the treasured girl, aren’t you, Miss Foster?” 

She wanted to pull her chin away, but something seemed to lock it into place such that she had no choice but to look up to him. Her eyes peeled away from the emerald orbs that glared at her, only to look out the windows, wishing she could just run and jump out of it.

“Look at me, Miss Foster,” he beckoned, his voice soft but severe. She continued to struggle, though it seemed like her body wasn’t going to cooperate. What was he doing?  
Magic, her mind supplied in answer. Thor had noted that his brother was an impeccable sorcerer. Which wasn’t helpful. In any other case, she might be fascinated. However, this was just downright terrifying. 

She continued to look away, however, being her stubborn self. No, she would not give in to this man… this thing…

“I said, look at me!” His voice bellowed before she could see, in the corner of her eyes, his hand that was not holding her chin raised to slap her. Startled, her eyes snapped to look at him, recoiling from the possible abuses. 

A grin started to spread across his face once more. His hand lowered back to his side. She imagined putting a bullet between his eyes just to stop that awful grin from growing. He was sick.

“This does not have to be difficult, Miss Foster,” he said calmly, his voice back to the almost hypnotic, lazy tone he had before. The hand that was going to slap her, instead, brushed its cool fingertips along her cheek. “If you comply, things will be quite comfortable for you. If not, I’m afraid, I will cease to have a choice but to take away your benefit of choice. That is not something I wish for, nor would you. Are we quite clear, Miss Foster?” 

“What do you mean, ‘take away my benefit of choice?’” She asked, her voice shaking slightly as she repeated his words, feeling the chill of his touch on her cheek. She felt as though she was about to be sick right here in front of him. 

“You have met my servants, have you not?” He asked, “Miss Andersen, who led you here to me, providing your clothes – she opted for not having a choice. I do not wish to do so, you see. But often, I, myself, must decide what is best for them.”

“She opted?” She asked, her eyes narrowing as he dropped his hands back to his sides, allowing her to move once more. “Somehow I doubt that.”

“She told me she’d rather die than choose to serve me. I am no murderer, Miss Foster. I did not wish to kill her. I simply suggested she not choose,” he said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. 

“I doubt it was a suggestion,” Jane scoffed. 

“It was,” He clarified, “And she complied, naturally. As humans do once granted the choice. They naturally find it easier to simply not choose.” 

Jane glared, finding his logic in doing what he did incredibly uncomprehensive. She was flabbergasted. “You say you are not a murderer, though you walked among corpses to get to where I was,” she said accusingly. “Thousands of people have died by your hand!” 

“They died by their own cause,” he spat. 

“That’s bullshit!” She spat back. 

Before she even realized it, he did slap her. She fell back onto the floor because of the sheer force, cradling her red, swollen cheek, tears pricking her eyes at the pain. She crawled into herself, losing all composure. 

“Watch your tongue, Miss Foster. I saved your life, but do not believe for one moment I cannot make you suffer,” he snarled at her. “Now get up,” he barked.  
She stayed where she was, wishing to disappear into oblivion. 

“Do not make me punish you again! Get up!” He barked again. She got up onto her knees but could not find the strength to stand all the way up. She looked up and glared at him defiantly. Slowly she rose to her feet. He looked pleased with himself. He seemed to shake off the anger he had almost instantly. “Now then, if you please, Miss Foster. I would very much like to have dinner.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a warning for explicit language of the Tony Stark variety.  
> Also, a thank you to all those who bookmarked and gave me kudos. I'd also like to hear everyone's thoughts (bad and good) regarding my story so comments are also totally welcome. Thanks for reading!

The fact that Jane had no choice but to have dinner with the man who just slapped her was cruelty enough. She felt sick to her stomach in nerves and anxiety. She shook slightly as she stood up, her face still burning from the blow. She couldn’t even fathom spending another moment with this sick man.

“Come now, Miss Foster,” Loki said, as though summoning his dog, “You must be hungry. You were asleep for nearly forty-eight hours.”

She no longer could feel the pangs of hunger in her stomach. She just wanted to leave. There was nothing more she wanted to do with Loki. She gave him a dark glare but did not move from where she stood.

“Very well, you may stay right there if you so desire. However, I, myself, am quite famished,” He said, making his way to his seat but not before pulling out hers. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Water,” she spoke shortly, her voice cracking on the last syllable.

“Very well.”

He paused for a second but only to make a glass of water appear out of thin air. She blinked a few times, trying to gather how he did that, but she pushed it to the back of her mind. He placed it on the table next to her plate.

“Miss Foster, if I wished to kill you, I would have done so while you were unconscious in my keep for so long. It would be quite… _unceremonious_ if I were to poison you through your food,” He said, standing at his seat, gesturing for her to sit in hers.

“You just _slapped_ me. Why would I want to eat with you?” She asked, tilting her head to the side, glaring at him incredulously.

He inhaled and exhaled, as though she were straining his patience, as though it didn’t mean anything for him to have slapped her. As if it were the most natural thing in the world. She didn’t expect him to apologize for it, but she didn’t expect him to reason it out, either.

“That is what masters must do to their servants who are out of line,” He spoke evenly, looking at her calmly, his hands folding in front of him.

“I’m _not_ your servant,” she hissed.

“You are not. However, I have saved your life. If you looked closely at your wounds, Miss Foster, which, no doubt you have, they disappeared. You owe me respect. From now on, I demand civility from you and I shall be equally civil toward you,” He spoke calmly.

It seemed pretty logical to him. Everything he has done, she thought, seemed logical to him.

“So, what you’re saying is, because I challenged you to realize what you’ve done to my race considering you don’t seem to realize it quite yet, you call it disrespect?” She said, pursing her lips into a frown, finally looking up to his pale face. His green eyes never seemed to leave hers, as though appraising her.

“Your use of profanity is disrespectful,” He countered, paying no mind to the rest of what she said.

“Fair enough,” she shrugged, “But to be honest, I have plenty of reasons to despise you, regardless of the fact that you saved my life. You are deserving of my anger.”

“I cannot blame you for being angry at things you do not yet understand,” He said plainly and then before she could counter him, he raised his hand to stop her from speaking again, and then gestured once more to her seat. “Now, as much as I enjoy debating with you, Miss Foster, I do believe our food is getting quite cold. Will you not at least sit with me?”

She was hesitant, but seeming as he wasn’t about to yell at her again or slap her, her hunger seemed to have returned. She sat into her chair, but remained looking at him as he sat down as well on the opposite side of the table.

“Please, help yourself,” He pressed. She looked over the food that was in her immediate range. Turkey, squash, potatoes… It looked and smelled so very appetizing regardless of the monster she was sharing her meal with. She took the serving fork and placed a few slices of the meat and a portion of each of the vegetables she could, filling her plate.

She began to eat, cutting into the turkey. Part of her felt wrong for being here with him, knowing that there were people starving because of him. There were people who were torn away from their homes that have been destroyed. She felt guilty for enjoying the savory bite of the turkey and for stuffing the rest in her fact faster than she could even think.

She stabbed into each of the vegetables with a fork but slowed down her eating. Only to look up to see that he had only taken a few bites and was mostly watching her rather than eating his meal himself. She flushed a bright red, embarrassed. He smirked at her, seeing her embarrassment to which she looked back down at her plate.

Once she was finished, she grabbed her cup of water and guzzled it down in nearly one swig. It was unladylike, but never was she known for her femininity. When she finished, she looked at him, who had managed to finish at least half of his plate, but left quite a bit of it untouched. He was still watching her with those piercing green eyes.

“I have spent many days wondering what it must be that Thor saw in you,” he said, as though explaining his stare, his voice low and dark. He was silent for a long while, taking a contemplative sip at his wine. “How is it that someone so small and fragile like a mortal change someone such as Thor so quickly?” He asked, but it was more of a question to himself than to her. She answered it regardless.

“I don’t think it’s that complicated, really,” She replied, shrugging. She wasn’t about to explain her romantic affiliations with someone who was so easily angered. She doubted his anger toward his brother was in the least bit healthy. There was nothing she could say or wanted to say to Loki.

Loki crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. A single black brow raised as he appraised her. She felt almost self-conscious about his stare. Like he was reading right through her.

“You have not truly _met_ Thor. You know very little of who he is to know what is complicated with him and what is not,” He nearly spat.

She raised her hands innocently, “I never said I knew anything about him,” she replied shortly.

That didn’t seem to alleviate Loki’s temper, his whole body stiffening at her comment. He inhaled and exhaled loudly.

“Your brother- “She began but was immediately cut off as Loki slammed his hand onto the table. She jumped.

“He is _not_ my brother,” he spat, his voice thick with acid.

She remained still, hoping not for another outburst from him. Her eyes remained peeled on him but remained silent. Clearly everything regarding Thor seemed to touch a nerve that causes such angry outbursts. She was not surprised, really. She only partly knew of their strained relationship and by some unhealthy jealousy, he must have just brought her here to taunt Thor.

She shifted in her seat and regained her composure. She won’t stand a chance with this man if she just remains passive. He’d sooner kill her.

She swallowed the thick lump in her throat before speaking again.

“I’m not going to argue with you about what you believe especially considering how you like to win your arguments. I’d much rather know why I’m here,” she said, her confidence regained.

It was as though all anger seemed to dissolve into a mocking sort of entertainment for him. He smirked at her, his lips curling upward into an odd sort of grin.

“Why, Jane, I always believed you to be an intelligent woman. So tell me, why is it, do you think, I’ve brought you here?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“You want to use me as leverage against Thor,” She stated, staring blankly at him. “It’s obvious, yes. If that is entirely true that must make you the pettiest dictator our world has ever seen. Mass murder, cities grounded, wars waged… and for what? To prove to your brother that you are better? You’re a _child_.”

He stood up. His eyes were now seething with anger. He didn’t expect that answer, now did he? Her proud moment was short-lived. She froze. _Now you’ve done it, Jane_ , she thought, _you had to say that._

“You know nothing,” He said slowly, his voice low, seething with outright anger and outrage. “You feeble, stupid girl,” he said, stalking toward her.

She darted up out of her seat and backed away from him. Though she doubted it would be much use against him, she wished she had a weapon of some sort. It would make her feel better, if anything.

“Don’t touch me,” She said, backing away into the door that she found very quickly was locked. She turned and tried harder to open. “Leave me alone!” She cried out.

He was upon her like a viper attacking its prey. His hand went for her neck, grabbing it, not enough to cut off air flow, but enough to be painful. She squirmed in his grasp, her eyes wide as she stared at the man who might just kill her.

“Let go of me, you… you monster!” She cried out, her hand clawing at his, though it didn’t seem to make any impact on his grip.

“Perhaps, Miss Foster,” he growled, “You must learn to speak to me with respect.” The scepter she had seen in various SHIELD videos appeared in his hand. It glowed a brilliant blue in front of her. He lowered the point of it just so that it nearly touched her chest, but not entirely. She saw him both control and kill people with this. Both of them sounded equally brutal at this moment.

She began to cry. “Please, no,” She begged, squirming still in his grasp.

“You must ask politely, Miss Foster. Now to whom are you speaking?” He growled.

“Loki,” She squeaked as the scepter came closer.

“Incorrect,” he said, his eyes narrowing, “My title, Miss Foster.”

Every ounce of stubbornness wanted to prove him wrong. She wanted to repeat what she already said once again. She couldn’t call him a King. It was silly. It was wrong. But making a martyr out of herself wasn’t going to solve anything. She needed to give in for now.

“King Loki,” she corrected. The scepter lowered away from her and his grip on her throat loosened.

“It does not have to be this way, Miss Foster,” he said. “I do not wish to control you. But I shall not stand for your insolence, either. It is up to you, regardless. It is simpler for you to _give in_ as it has always been for your race. It is sad to see such an intelligent woman such as you not realize what is more reasonable,” he said, removing his hand from her throat. She sank down against the wall.

She remained silent. All attempts at reasoning with this man were behind her. All attempts at discussion felt nonexistent. She just wanted to crawl back into that bed and pretend like he wasn’t outside her bedroom door. She wanted to fall asleep and wake up when this was all over. But was it going to be over? He was winning. She watched all of the news. She listened to the radio obsessively while she was underground. He was winning very quickly. There was no waiting it out.

“What do you want from me?” She rasped, her voice cracking as she wiped away the tears with her flannel sleeve. “If you want to torture me… just kill me now.”

She didn’t look at him, but she could hear the smirk in his voice. “No, I would very much like to keep you alive for now, Jane,” he said, lightly. She realized it was the first time he didn’t say “Miss Foster.”

“You haven’t answered my question,” She pressed.

“I have no need to answer your question. A king does not answer to his supplicant,” he spoke. “But you have proven your worth, Miss Foster, so I do believe I shall keep you around for quite some time.”

She repressed the groan that nearly fell from her lips, her head rocking back to look at him through narrowed eyes.

“To wrap up our little meeting, I’ve been meaning to make a few calls. There are quite a few people worried about you, you see. As I have stated before, you are quite the treasured girl. Now, if you’ll just stay put for a few more moments…” He spoke as a remote appeared in his hand. He turned on the television on the wall across from her. After some fiddling around, he managed to work the television that was used to communicate with other SHIELD facilities.

She rose to her feet, curious to see what he was doing. She was not surprised when she saw what looked to be the interior of an aircraft, watched by many faces.

Loki’s smirk turned into a downright grin, his hands folding behind his back as he stood before the television, which clearly doubled as one of Tony Stark’s computers. Jane had no idea Loki contacted SHIELD so easily, but she wasn’t surprised. Loki most likely knew where Thor was at all times. He knew how to keep Thor at bay while he was fighting the rebellion’s side. But she had never heard of Loki contacting them so easily.

“I wish to speak with your director,” he announced though he knew it was not the only audience he would have. She had no doubt there were whatever Avengers were left upon that aircraft. And no doubt, did they appear on the screen after several moments of people shuffling around. There was Director Fury… Behind him was Tony Stark and Steve Rodgers, both stolid looking, as though they weren’t shocked by Loki’s call.

“Well _fuck_ , speaking of the devil, if it isn’t The Almighty One himself?” She heard Tony Stark scoff in the distance. She recognized his voice from meeting him once before after the battle of New York while he was recovering in the bunker she stayed in. She managed to work on several projects pertaining to Loki’s magic with him after getting over her star-struck nature. Before, when they thought they still stood a chance in the war, he was always so very lively and managed to put a smile on her face. But now, there was hardly any mirth in his voice. It was dead. Just like she felt, looking at all of them but being stuck in this room with Loki.

“Your words have never entertained, Mr. Stark,” Loki scoffed, but directed his attention mostly the Director who was front and center.

“What do you want this time, Loki?” Director Fury spoke, his voice strained, as though they had already been through this a million times. “We have already tried negotiating. Your presence here is not working out.”

“Oh, yes we have, Director. I have been meaning to thank you for your kindness in lending me this pleasant temporary residence,” he said gesturing to the beautiful scenery outside. “I’d say things have been, as you say, working out perfectly.”

Jane could see Fury rolling his only eye at Loki’s words. It must be easy to do so when Loki wasn’t so close to him physically.

“What do you want, Loki?” the director repeated, agitated.

“I know what we have previously discussed regarding my reign over the United States, but seeing as how your previous leader has not yet surrendered but has agreed to discussion with me, I thought some leverage might be called for,” Loki said confidently, then turned around to signal Jane to come stand next to him.

Jane remained very still, looking at him with wide eyes. When Loki saw she wasn’t walking toward him, he walked up to her, grabbed her wrist and yanked her to stand next to him.

“You failed to keep Dr. Foster safe, I realized. I found her in one of your failing cities where your employees did not keep an eye on her. She was going to die, had I not found her. Considering she is one of your most brilliant minds, I thought it would be best to keep her for myself. She would be quite helpful amongst my war effort and seeing as you have no need for her anymore.” As Loki spoke, she visualized herself shooting a bullet through his head repeatedly.

Just when she thought it couldn’t get any worse, Thor appeared on the screen. _Thor_. Loki stiffened at her side.

“Thor! Please help,” She exclaimed before he had enough time to realize what was going on.

“Jane?” Thor asked, as though confused and then turned to Director Fury. “You told me she was going to be kept safe!”

“It’s not their fault,” Jane exclaimed, “Just please- “

Before she could end her sentence, her voice strained to make any more noise. Loki was glaring at her. She tried speaking but nothing came out. She panicked. 

“Brother, if you hurt her, I swear to the Norns, you will regret the day you were born,” Thor swore.

Loki gave a dark, mirthless chuckle, shaking his head. “Far too late for that, Odinson,” he chuckled again. “However, your little mortal is far too useful to me. If you dare come within 100 miles of her, Thor, I shall know. My mind can easily be changed about her worth and I shall see your move against my spoils as a call to war. Then, I shall burn your cities to the ground without the aforementioned compromise over policy. Are we clear, Director Fury? Odinson?”

“You fucking bastard,” She heard Tony say as he was throwing his arms up. “What is she to you? A toy? You’re fucking disgusting.” Her heart warmed slightly at his defense of her. Not everyone gets both the care of an Asgardian god and Tony Stark himself. It felt like reasons to push through this and figure out an escape.

Steve Rodgers, who was silent the entire time, seemed to want nothing to do with this. He walked out of the room.

“End this, Loki. Your heart is not this black,” Thor pleaded.

“Is it not?” Loki asked, his head tilting to the side. “Or am I the monster your kind has always taken me for?” He laughed again, as though this was a joke to him now. It was a mad, disgusting laugh. She shuddered slightly. “Now, as much as I would like to sit here and chat with you charming individuals, I do have other tasks to attend to. So I’ll ask you again. Are we clear on these terms? Or shall I add some more reinforcement?”

Director Fury blinked at him, casting a quick glance at Thor who looked so worked up yet so broken, her heart broke a little.

She was at a total loss. There was no way her life would be worth enough to save and now she completely relied on Loki’s mercy.

She felt tears welling in her eyes once more. She wanted this call to end. She couldn’t say anything or do anything without risking her life.

“Crystal,” Director Fury spoke with utter certainty. “Is that all you wanted to talk about?”

“That would be all, Director. Many thanks again, for this fine establishment.”

She heard a sigh and the television went back to the SHIELD logo almost immediately. She could feel the pressure in her throat that seemed to restrain her from talking ease and disappear.

“I apologize, but I did not require your input, Miss Foster,” Loki replied, though she knew he was not in the least apologetic. “I merely needed to get my point across. Now that you’re aware of your situation-“

“You’re a monster,” she stated bluntly.

Loki paused, staring blankly at her for a few moments. “I know,” he replied.

He was silent, again, not finishing his prior sentence, but not scolding her for interrupting him, either. There was a pregnant pause between them. She knew not what to make of it, but she only used this time to wipe away the tears that seemed to constantly be on her cheeks.

“Miss Foster, we will be leaving this building tomorrow morning quite early. I suggest you gather your belongings. Miss Andersen will show you to your room and will also wake you up in a timely manner,” he instructed, immediately dismissing whatever it was that caused him to go into such a contemplative silence.

Out of nowhere, the lady from before appeared in the doorway. Jane was relieved to be able to leave his presence finally. She couldn’t take being in the same room with this cruel madman. She walked quite quickly over to her.

“Goodnight, Miss Foster,” She heard Loki say behind her before she left the room.


	3. Chapter 3

The amount of sleep Jane received that night was minimal.

The first thing Jane could think of upon getting back to her room was escape. She knew she had to at least try before resigning herself to the fate Loki had in store for her. She tried the window first, pushing it, slamming her fists and then slamming her chair against it before sliding down the wall in defeat, crying what few tears she had left.

Then, she made for the door, trying to figure out how to unhinge it in any way possible. However, any time she touched the metal, it seemed to have been radiating heat, burning her whenever she touched it. She cried out, cradling her burnt hand and went to the sink to rinse it with cold water.

The sorcerer must have heard the furniture against the window and considered that she was trying to escape. She doesn’t know if that was his doing but she didn’t want to continue regardless.

Second, she paced about her room, searching in every drawer and crevice for the possibility of a pen and paper. She needed to do _something_ or she might go insane.

Luckily, a pad of paper and a pencil happened to be in the smaller drawer of the plain desk that was sitting in her room. She sighed with relief and went to sit on top of her bed.

Whenever she was stressed in college or graduate school, she would write down all the things she was worrying about or the things that were on her mind. Once they were written down, everything seemed less scary and stressful.

She bit at shaft of the pencil in her anxiety. She needed to calm down. He wasn’t going to win this. He wasn’t going to get the better of her. This was his plan, probably. To play with her like a toy until he got bored and then disposed of her. Watch her suffer… Who knew such a kind soul like Thor would have such a brother like this? Or rather, be raised alongside him? She shuddered, wondering what could have gone wrong.

She wrote down her thoughts as she had them. _He’s masochistic. He’s not going to kill me yet. I have time._

She looked at the digital clock, seeing that, in her panic, four hours had already passed.

She laid back onto her bed, finding herself emotionally drained, setting the pencil and paper on her stomach and stared at the ceiling until everything on her mind was completely drained onto this pad of paper.

Before she knew it, there was a knock on the door and it was morning. She shot up, her heart nearly fluttering into her throat. _Please don’t be him…_

“Miss Foster?” The familiar female voice sounded from behind the door. Sure, it wasn’t Loki, but it was his robot-like assistant instead that couldn’t give her any warmth or reassurance.

“Yes?” She called back groggily.

“I shall be back in 5 minutes to guide you to the jet. Is this adequate time?” She asked.

“I guess,” She replied. A jet?

She knew that they were leaving but he just said leaving this building. The last thing she wanted to do was be stuck on a jet with the crazed man. Or any small space, for that matter.

She rose from the bed, gathering her small amount of belongings, including the pencil and pad of paper, into the duffel bag that she had been carrying around all this time. A realization formed in her sleep-addled brain…

_Phone_. She searched through the bag, pulling everything out in a hurry. Surely he didn’t actually search through her stuff? But then again, she wouldn’t put it past him. It really should have surprised her to know that her satellite phone SHIELD had given her was gone.

She sighed, leaning her head against the bed post, knowing she should make it a rarity that she should get her hopes up. The moment that bomb went off next to her, she was dead. She needed to remember that.

“Miss Foster?” Ms. Andersen called from the other side once more.

“Coming,” She said, zipping up her bag and heading to the door that Ms. Andersen ended up opening, as Jane didn’t want to take her chances with whatever seemed to heat up the metal of the door from last night.

They went down the same hallway that had led to the elevator she took the night before, but turned another way and headed out double doors into what seemed to be an airfield that had a single jet. It wasn’t one of SHIELD’s black jets, which made her wonder how Loki had attained something that didn’t look alien otherwise. However, it looked more like a scaled down version of Air Force One.

There were stairs leading into the cabin that she was herded into by a couple of Loki’s robot-people. She guessed that should she of had the opportunity to run, it would have been then if not for his “servants.” It wasn’t large, but it was pretty comfortable, the cushions and carpet in different beige and red tones. It screamed wealth. Her heart dropped when she realized whose insignia was embroidered onto the cabinets. This was Tony Stark’s private jet. Loki must have taken it while he was taking over Stark Tower during the battle of New York. Tony must have narrowly escaped, then considering she saw him on the television last night. She wondered if he still had his suits…

The one up side to this was that Loki himself was still nowhere to be seen a couple of minutes after she boarded the jet. She wondered if he had any intention of flying with him at all, considering he had no need for transportation. He seemed to be able to move wherever he so desired to go at any point in time.

This comforted her for all of five minutes when she saw the devil himself walking from the building to board the jet, wearing a deep green suit and black tie, his hair slicked back. One might even believe he was human if they didn’t know any better. He saw her staring at him from her window and gave a wink. She felt like she would hurl whatever was left in her stomach and looked away. She turned her head to the window and kept it there as he boarded, not wishing to look to even further acknowledge his existence.

She could hear him sit across the aisle from her but she didn’t move from where she was sitting.

“Sleep well, Miss Foster?” He asked, though there was a bit of mirth undermining his tone. “Ms. Andersen tells me your room was quite a mess when you left it. Was there a bit of trouble? Perhaps a rodent?”

She continued to ignore him and his mockery. He knew she was trying to escape and failed. She didn’t just imagine her burned finger tips from the heated up metal of the door handle and hinges.

“Fuck you,” She said thickly, rolling her eyes at his tone.

“Such language for a lady. Though I am known for my promiscuity, you are, as you Midgardians might say, _not my type_ ,” He said. She nearly laughed at his unnatural use of such a saying. It didn’t sound right. However, she didn’t want to amuse him any further so she restrained herself to just a sharp inhale and exhale.

“For shame,” She said sardonically under her breath.

“Far be it that I ignore such a request if my lady so desires,” He replied smugly.

“Oh please,” she scoffed, her cheeks growing a bright red from his tone, not wishing at all to take this route of conversation. He was only finding what buttons to push and when, whether he meant what he said or not. She knew it was best to keep her reactions minimal, as he was feeding off of them like fuel for the fire. He wasn’t called a Silvertongue without reason.

“Don’t beg, Miss Foster. It is unbecoming,” he chuckled just as the captain, whoever that might be, called into the cabin that they were clear for takeoff.

“However, it is tempting. How might you think Thor might feel after I bed his woman?” He considered as the plane began to speed up. She considered jumping out of the emergency door behind her to escape this torture. His words gave her images of him forcing himself upon her… holding her by her throat like he did last night. She shuddered and her hands felt clammy.

“Stop…” She muttered pleadingly.

“Did he ever fuck _you_ , Jane? Or was it so disappointing that you’re flushing in embarrassment at the very thought?” She couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. He was pressing her for a reaction. For entertainment. She wasn’t going to give that to him. She’d never willingly give that to him.

“It is understandable if you feel in such a way. Most women would go to bed him to gain some sort of fulfilment of sleeping with the crown prince of Asgard, and then come to _me_ if they actually wished to enjoy themselves. It would only make sense you feel the same way, Jane. He is used to it.”  

Her hands curled into her palms so harshly that her nails drew blood.

“Nothing to say, Jane?” He prodded after a couple more moments of silence as the whir of the jets gained momentum as they were airborne. “Perhaps because you know my words are true.”

“Shut up,” She snapped, turning on him once they seemed to have reached the highest point of the flight after taking up. “You’re a liar.”

“Oh? You think so very highly of your precious Thor that you believe what I say are lies?”

He found it. The tender underbelly of this all. He knew that she knew nothing about Thor except what he’s spoken briefly of in the past couple of months whenever they had time to spend together. She knew nothing of his past. Nothing of other women he might have had in his bed.

“I might be a liar, Jane, but even lies are based off of fact,” He said, his voice low and grave. “And the fact is, you know nothing of Thor.”

“I know that,” she snapped.

He stared at her for a couple of moments, his lips pressed into a thin line and for a moment, she thought he was about to attack her again. However, his lips slowly turned into a grin and he chuckled at her, shaking his head. She regretted saying anything. “Why, you _are_ fun, Miss Foster.”

“Shut up,” She muttered under her breath, crossing her arms and turning back the other way, wondering how hard she might have to hit her head until she was unconscious.

“If the Lady Jane requests,” He surrendered, surprisingly enough, and let out a loud exhale.

She relaxed slightly, thinking he might quit the jabs for however long this flight might take. It was then that she realized she had _no_ idea where they were going or how long this silence was actually going to last.

“Where are we going?” She asked a couple of minutes later, turning to look at him. He raised his hands in surrender and then shrugged, looking amused that she wanted him to talk again. He was truly an asshole of all trades. And a child.

She glared at him but then decided it didn’t matter. She’d find out eventually.

“King Loki,” A man sounded from the back of the cabin. “A phone call from Korea.”

She heard Loki get up and walk toward the back of the plane and shut a door. She could hear his voice coming through the door but it was speaking fluent Korean. Accent and everything. But of course he could speak Korean. He was a god, after all. Why shouldn’t he speak Korean?

She rubbed her temples, wondering where she went wrong. Perhaps it would have been better if he just took over her mind so she wouldn’t have to knowingly put up with him. But then again… She thought back to their conversation. Would he rape her? She wouldn’t put it past him. Especially if her consciousness was taken over by some sort of mind stone. She shuddered when he opened the door and walked back to his seat.

Still, he made no comment to her, ignoring her just as she was ignoring him. It was a relief.

As much as her heavy eye lids wished to shut, knowing the quiet sound of the jet was lulling her to the sleep her body knew she needed, she couldn’t sleep in his presence. She had to keep her mind distracted. She dug into her duffel bag to pull out the pad of paper she now found as her only relief. She turned away so he might not read whatever it was she was writing, but she threw a quick glance in his direction. His eyes were shut, his head leaning back against the cushion. Was he napping?

He looked almost like stone, the only signs that he was alive being the gentle rise and fall of his shoulders. His skin was so pale it looked fragile if she didn’t know any better. The circles under his eyes were the telltale signs he wasn’t sleeping, either. He was almost the opposite to Thor, whose skin was warm and tan, contrasting his light hair. _Thor_ …

_Dear Thor,_

She scribbled onto the paper, knowing he might never get it, but it made her feel better that she was writing it in the possibility she might have a chance to send it his way. Wherever that way might be.

_I’m writing to tell you I’m not giving up. I’m going to find a way to escape and I’ll be safe again. Until then, I’m going to be okay. I don’t think he’s going to hurt me. I think I’m too useful to him. But I can never be sure._

She sighed, passing a glance back over to Loki, wondering if he was actually unconscious or not. She didn’t want to hear the jabs that he might make from this silly letter that may never reach Thor.

_Maybe there’s a way to appeal to him. I don’t know what that might be, but I’m going to be spending a lot of time with him and I like to think I’m intelligent enough to figure it out. Or maybe that’s just my inner optimist speaking._

_Anyway, I miss you. I miss your voice and your warmth. I miss your silly sense of humor. I miss your laugh. I really hope I’ll get to see you again, regardless of what Loki has threatened._

_I love you._

_-Jane_

O-O-O-O-O-

_“Shut up, Loki,”_ He heard several voices repeat in unison until he could hear her voice say the same exact words throughout his past. Thor and his friends, Odin…

“ _Shut up, Loki,”_ his former wife would scream at him, her cheeks stained with tears, “ _Why must you be so cruel?”_ she’d ask him many a time. They had many arguments throughout their marriage. He always knew what words would hurt her the most when he needed them to and _she-_ Well _, t_ here was a possibility she never truly loved him in the first place. It seemed to be that tricking someone into marriage, no matter how many times you beg for their forgiveness, is never the pathway to any sort of healthy relationship.

In the beginning, he would often make up for it with flowers from his mother’s garden or silly little trinkets that she found so amusing that he’d find in the streets of the market. He’d show her magic tricks, bring her treats. He’d do anything to earn her forgiveness and adoration. As their marriage became more of a burden on him than a blessing, once he figured out Sigyn would never be the wife he thought she might be, he’d ignore her for the rest of the day… or even, the week. When she died, Loki never returned to courtship or any sort of romance with another woman.

However, Jane was most certainly not Sigyn and he cared not for her words. His sentiments would get him nowhere.

_What is your need of the girl?_ The Other’s voice echoed in his head and he shuddered. It had been quite obnoxious for the past couple of days, ever since he found Jane Foster nearly dead. The constant threats were denying him any sort of slumber.

_A distraction for my enemies._ He replied bluntly, not wishing for any further questioning.

_You are wasting time._ He _will not be pleased, Laufeyson. Your petty sentiment will be your ruin._

_Do not think I have any sentiment for the girl. She is to keep Thor away._

_Prove it, Laufeyson. Your time is growing short. You know the punishment for those who fail._

The Other swiftly left his mind, leaving it barren and as empty as he left it. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Images of the torture flashed through his mind, though they were not his thoughts. They had been filling his waking dreams as of late. A torture in its own right.

Perhaps once he had the United States under his thumb these threats of torture would end. He had to keep moving and after Mexico was defeated, his progress remained stagnant due to the growing amount of resistance in countries not immediately occupied by his armies where panic and destruction was being caused by the humans’ own hand, not his. He needed reassurance. He needed the United States to comply. So, he was going to the capital with Jane Foster.

She was going to humanize him to the people he was trying to rule and he needed her fully conscious. It wouldn’t be something He would understand. _He_ was a destroyer of worlds, not a conqueror.

It would be simple, really. He has already placed the threats to the other side to not come near him or Jane if they valued her. Upon landing, he was assured he and Jane would gain a public eye. Not only will he be getting at Thor and tapping into his rage, but he would also have Jane Foster’s intelligence of Midgardian technology, whether she’ll willingly give it to him or not.

Yes, he knew what he was doing. And he didn’t like to be questioned. Especially not by some half-witted species who had no realm to call its own.

“Oh, Miss Foster?” He called over to her, seeing that she was writing something down onto a sheet of paper she must have found in her bedroom. She jumped, possibly thinking he was asleep during his chat with The Other. He snickered. She really was terrified of him.

“I suggest that you might want to look a bit more presentable. I do believe quite a sizeable amount of press might be greeting us when we land.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice going shrill, something she seemed to do when she panicked.

“I mean, Miss Foster, that I am in the public eye, as you know, and you will be as well considering you are with me. For some reason, Midgardians like to document every small thing that happens. They have made me quite the celebrity.”

She sunk in on herself, sinking into the chair, coming to a realization that she might not have wanted to think of.

For a moment, he almost felt _bad_ for her, knowing the feeling himself. As a Prince of Asgard, he always was in the center of attention to be picked apart by the Asgardian people. They would make up stories and rumors about him. A good majority of them were nasty simply because he did not _look_ like them. He knew what it was like, having such attention thrust upon you when you simply wish to remain hidden. However, it hardly mattered anymore. He needed her for this spotlight, and with the resistance beginning to gain strength, she was about to get the most damning attention without her even realizing it.

She seemed to be at a loss of words, so he allowed the silence for her to gather her bearings.

“When do we land?” She squeaked a few moments later.

“I estimate less than half an hour. There is a mirror in the bathroom if you need.”

She nodded once and left to go to the bathroom.

He eased into his seat eying her as she stiffly walked to the bathroom and then quickly open and shut the bathroom door. Through the thin walls, he could hear her dry gagging echoing into a toilet and it made him stiffen. Perhaps it would have been best he took control of her mind. Perhaps she is too mentally fragile for what he needs of her. But then again, why should he care for her fragility? He’ll make her endure it one way or the other. As long as she complies.

 

 


End file.
